


A Very Unusual Day

by SkyStroller



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Todd isn't a bellboy (yet), Valentine's Day, the Patrick Spring incident hasn't happened (yet)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9713789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyStroller/pseuds/SkyStroller
Summary: Dirk's day starts out all wrong, but ends up alright. Todd just wants to brood in peace, but the handsome nutjob won't let him be.[This was supposed to be a short, hopefully cute, oneshot in honour of Valentine's Day that spirals into something terrible. Unfortunately /that/ spiralled into something new entirely, so this has just kind of been left... dangling. I feel bad about deleting it, though.]





	

Dirk was having an extremely unusual day, which, in his case, meant an extremely _boring_ day. Dirk's normal meant waking up late, eating the first edible thing he saw, throwing on the first jacket he saw, and going out to follow the first person he found interesting. A case usually followed, meaning his mornings would then be even more hectic.

Today, however, everything was different.

The universe took no breaks (not even on Dirk's birthday, nor the birthday of the Queen!) and Dirk didn't think Valentine's Day, of all things, would be an exception. Yet there he was, staring at the ceiling at 6:57 AM with a craving for chips and a vague heart shape. He was a bit confused over why he needs heart-shaped chips, already formulating a dozen different possibilities, but ultimately a hunch is a hunch, and meant to be followed.

Unlike most other days, Dirk also took the time to actually coordinate an outfit. It was Valentine's, after all, and although he had no one special, who was he to disrespect the festivities? He had a feeling looking presentable might even be to his advantage!

A glance at his phone now showed the time was 7:41 AM, so off he went, in a random direction sure to bring him to heart-shaped chips.

 

* * *

 

Todd was having an extraordinarily usual day. _That sentence makes no sense, though,_ he thought, _how can a day be extraordinary when it is also ordinary? Ordinary days are ordinary, not extraordinary, that's why they're called ordinary; a day being extraordinary in any way would mean it is no longer ordinary--_

His looping train of thought was cut short by the very pressing matter of a little kid kicking him in the shin.

“Ow,” he muttered, rubbing his knee and smiling insincerely at the embarrassed mother.

“Kids these days...” Todd sighed and once again questioned the decisions that had lead to him working as the diner's heart-shaped mascot.

It still confused him that they insisted on calling french fries ‘chips', but whenever he'd tried to ask about it, the angry man with an accent yelled at him, so Todd had decidedly given up caring for as long as he still got paid.

Once _again,_ his train of thought was cut short.

“What about them?”

“I'm sorry?” he asked and looked in the direction of the voice. The first thing he saw was hot pink leather and a strip of navy blue dotted with white hearts. Craning his neck upwards revealed the face of the interruption.

“The kids. These days. What about them?” the stranger asked with a smile so wide that Todd inexplicably felt like throwing a shoe at his face. Or maybe playing some guitar to him. Not even the electric kind. _Shit._

“They kick a lot,” he answered. He could already feel his face collapse into what Amanda called the Face Of Dumb Stupid Nothing.

“They do, don't they? I've noticed that as well-- although, to be fair, at the time I was dealing with an altered version of laughing gas that made everybody younger than 15 kick everybody older than 15. Actual 15-year-olds were left out - which I thought quite odd at first - but later it turned out that this was because the mad scientist (and by mad I mean very _angry,_ not insane) who had made it had a 15-year-old daughter whom he did not wish to be kicked by. Of course, things went terribly wrong when her ice cream fell on the--”

Todd rubbed his face in disappointment as he tuned out the crazy rambling. _Of course,_ he thought, his inner voice sounding terribly self-deprecating. _Of course the one nice-looking guy who approaches me is a fucking nutjob._

“Okay, wait, hold on, mister...?” he cut through the rant, hoping to end this exchange as soon as possible.

“Dirk. Dirk Gently. Holistic detective,” Dirk said, handing Todd a business card.

“Right,” he muttered, pocketing the card without looking at it. “I'm actually working right now, so please either buy some french fries or--”

“Oh! Of course! I'm so sorry, Todd, I didn't even realize-- Ah! This place serves chips! Perfect!”

As Dirk ran inside the diner, excited as a hungry four-year-old, Todd felt some of his irritation fade. The moment of peace graced him with some extra patience for when the crushed-looking Dirk walked outside again, a greasy box of fries in hand.

“Todd," Dirk whined with rather a lot of offense in his tone, "they said they don't sell heart-shaped chips!”

“Yeah, no, sorry. The only heart-shaped thing here is me," he said, pointing down at his ridiculous costume.

Dirk's expression shifted, from confused to frustrated, before landing on completely blank.

“The heart shape and the chips... heart-shaped chips, the chips and the heart shape! I solved the case! _Todd._ I'm craving _you!_ _”_

Todd struggled to hold back a blush at the suggestive sentence, _(Seriously!? Who just goes out and says something like_ that _like_ this?) but decided to ignore it in favour of a safer mystery, although his voice still came out much higher than intended.

“Woah, wait a sec, how do you even know my name?”

Dirk smiled coyly and poked him in the chest.

“It's written on your heart, Todd,” he said and shoved three more business cards in Todd's pocket before skipping off.

“What?” Todd asked himself, baffled, before remembering he was wearing a nametag. “Oh. Written on my heart, huh?”

He chuckled, digging out his phone and one of the four identical cards now in his breast pocket. A part of him wondered if this was wise, if maybe he should just turn away and forget it happened, to keep doing his job and keep living his boring, _boring_ life (Amanda's words, not his). Before he could really reach a decision, the phone chimed to confirm his changes.

 

**[ Contact saved:** Hot Weirdo **]**

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe me if I told you I only wrote this because of a gif of Patrick Star ripping apart a heart costume?


End file.
